Chapter 5

Charlotte clicked her tongue softly as she glanced around.

A bad feeling crept up her spine—this wasn’t going to be as simple as just handing over a report.

And at this rate?

She was definitely pulling an all-nighter with Eugene.

Her face twisted into a grimace, almost to the point of tears.

The commotion had only gotten worse since she arrived.

How does anyone know what they’re doing here?

Is there no system?!

With no other choice, Charlotte decided to use her last resort.

“WAAH!”

Without hesitation, she threw out her hand, reaching blindly into the chaotic sea of people—

And grabbed hold of the first person she could catch.

Then, with force, she yanked them toward her.

“Hello there!”

Charlotte greeted them with the brightest smile she could muster.

“Uh… h-hello…?”

The man who had been pulled in against his will stumbled slightly, his words coming out in a confused stutter.

His face screamed a mix of shock and bewilderment.

“Where can I find the officer in charge of the Baron Turove case?”

His eyes darted around nervously, rolling from side to side like marbles.

Charlotte could see the confusion spread across his face, and internally, she cheered.

Perfect. He has no idea how to handle this. That means he’ll crack easily.

To make sure he didn’t try to escape, she tightened her grip on his arm—

And flashed an even brighter smile.

“Uh, but… w-who are you, exactly…?”

Tch.

Charlotte clicked her tongue internally.

Her original plan had been simple:

Walk in directly, hand over the report, and speak to the investigator.

From there, she’d gather as much information as possible—

How far the investigation had progressed, what direction the detectives were looking, and who was being interrogated.

After that?

She could pull back from the case, just as the director had ordered—

At least, that was the plan.

If she introduced herself as an autopsy facility employee bringing an additional report, there was a risk.

The man could easily respond with, “Oh, I’ll deliver it for you, haha!”

Or, he could just point in a direction and walk away.

And Charlotte wasn’t the type to gamble on an uncertain outcome.

So—

She casually slipped the envelope behind her back, lowered her gaze slightly, and blinked a few times—just enough to look a little hesitant.

“Um, I… I used to work at Baron Turove’s estate—as a maid. I, uh, came to cooperate with the investigation…”

“Ah! You’re here for a witness interview!”

“…Yes, exactly! That’s right!”

That worked?!

Charlotte held back a grimace.

But on the outside, she laughed smoothly, nodding along.

Huh. Maybe I’m a better liar than I thought.

The director had always told her:

“You’re terrible at lying—just keep your mouth shut if you ever need to hide something.”

But now?

Charlotte felt oddly proud.

She scratched her cheek absently, following the man as he led the way.

The two of them wove through the bustling crowd, Martin chatting nonstop the entire time.

“My name’s Martin Giles. Just call me Martin!”

“You must be overwhelmed—losing your employer so suddenly, right?”

“With a murder happening at the estate, is anyone thinking about quitting their job?”

“Don’t worry too much—we already have our prime suspect secured.”

Prime suspect?

Charlotte nodded absently, chewing over his words.

Who?

Could it really be Lucy?

Her grip tightened around the envelope.

The paper crinkled under her fingers.

They walked for about five minutes before arriving at a door labeled:

[Interrogation Room 3]

Martin paused, glancing back at her.

Charlotte quickly plastered on a harmless smile, the kind that said “I’m completely innocent and not at all suspicious.”

Seemingly satisfied, Martin eased the door open.

And the moment the gap widened—

A sharp, panicked voice spilled out.

“No, no! I’m telling you, it wasn’t me!”

Charlotte peeked inside the room, tilting her head just enough to get a view.

At the center of the room stood a black table, and scattered carelessly across it were a number of glimmering trinkets.

A woman sat in front of the table, her face deathly pale, her head shaking violently in desperate denial.

Across from her sat two men, both appearing to be police officers.

Since they were seated side by side, Charlotte could clearly see the man with brown hair, but his companion was partially obscured.

All she could make out was a head of black hair.

“Miss May, it would be best if you stopped denying this.”

The brown-haired officer let out a heavy sigh.

“We’ve already secured testimonies from the estate staff. They say you’ve been frequently entering the Baron’s chambers lately.”

“That was for cleaning! I was just doing my job…!”

“Then how do you explain this?”

The black-haired man interrupted her, his voice low and commanding—a tone that naturally commanded attention.

May’s shoulders flinched, and she pressed her lips together.

“We found all of this in your room.”

He reached forward, tapping on the jewelry spread across the table.

A ring encrusted with jewels, a pearl necklace, a finely crafted brooch—

The trinkets clinked softly as they shifted under his touch, glinting under the dim light.

He studied them with detached indifference, before murmuring—

“A maid’s salary wouldn’t be enough to afford these.”

“T-They’re cheap! They look expensive, but they’re really not worth much!”

“Oh? I’d have to disagree.”

The black-haired officer picked up a gemstone ring, turning it over in his fingers.

The inside of the band bore an engraved inscription.

He read it aloud, his tone deliberate.

“La Debouin.”

A brand name that screamed wealth and prestige.

He arched an eyebrow.

“La Debouin is cheap, is it? I’m beginning to question your financial sense. What are you—some hidden princess from a foreign land?”

La Debouin was a jewelry boutique based in Leopolre.

It wasn’t the most prestigious jeweler in the Essenharne Empire, but being located in the capital gave it weight.

Its clientele consisted mostly of nobles with moderate titles or exceptionally wealthy commoners.

The black-haired officer watched May intently, his gaze sharp.

Her lips trembled.

“Where did you get all of this?”

“In that estate, the only people who could own or purchase such items are the Baron and the Baroness.”

“Which one gave them to you?”

Silence.

“Did you steal them from the Baroness?”

“No!”

May shouted instinctively, her face draining of color.

Being branded a thief was the worst possible fate for a servant.

If she were suspected of stealing from her employer, she wouldn’t just be thrown out without a reference—she would never be able to find work in another household.

If she were cast out into the world with nothing…

Her arms wrapped tightly around her shaking body.

“The Baron… gave them to me.”

The officer’s expression didn’t change.

“And why would he do that?”

“He just… he just said I was good at my job… it was a gift…”

“Good at your job?”

The corner of his mouth curled in an unreadable smirk.

May’s face flushed red, burning with shame.

Tears pricked at her eyes.

Finally, she squeezed them shut and whispered—

“…It’s what you’re thinking.”

“Interesting.” The officer tilted his head.

“And what exactly am I thinking?”

“You know!” May snapped, voice shaking.

“You’ve been mocking me this whole time!”

Her frustration boiled over.

“Yes! I was the Baron’s lover! I was his mistress! I had an affair with him, alright?! Are you satisfied now?!”

Her face burned red, her voice rising.

Then, with a gasp, she buried her face in her hands.

Soft, choked sobs escaped through her fingers.

“Superintendent.”

The black-haired officer turned at the call.

Standing at the door was his subordinate, Martin.

With a quiet sigh, the officer rose from his seat and stepped out of the interrogation room, shutting the door behind him.

Charlotte immediately spoke up.

“I’m from the autopsy facility.”

She felt Martin stiffen beside her.

A prickle of guilt stabbed at her chest as she glanced his way.

His wide, bewildered eyes and the clear confusion on his face made her stomach sink even further.

Still—she ignored it, turning back to the superintendent and extending the envelope.

“Charlotte Lovern. I performed the autopsy on Baron Turove. I’ve brought a report regarding a key suspect in the case.”

The officer reached for the papers.

“Henry Biles.”

But before his fingers could touch them—

Charlotte snapped her hand back, keeping the documents out of reach.

Then, her voice lowered.

“Martin told me the prime suspect was already secured. Is that the person in the interrogation room?”

Henry’s gaze shifted between her and Martin.

For a brief moment, he debated whether to scold his subordinate for carelessly leaking investigation details.

But after a pause, he let it go.

Charlotte wasn’t a complete outsider—after all, she had handled the Baron’s autopsy herself.

“The deceased’s mistress,” he finally answered.

“I figured as much.”

Charlotte tapped a finger against her ear, mockingly.

“I do have ears, you know.”

Henry sighed.

He must have recalled the way May’s shouting had echoed through the room.

His gaze slid back to Martin.

“Next time, try knocking before opening the door.”

“Or better yet—wait until the interrogation is finished.”

Martin stiffened, his body going rigid.

“M-My apologies, Superintendent!”

Henry hadn’t raised his voice.

But his tone alone carried a weight strong enough to make people nervous.

Charlotte could feel Martin’s distress beside her, and she felt even worse for dragging him into this.

Then—

Henry looked back at his subordinate.

“Get back to work, Marin. I’ll handle this conversation.”

…Marin?

“…My name is Martin, Superintendent.”

“Hm. My apologies.”

Did he just get his own subordinate’s name wrong?

Charlotte’s expression twisted in disbelief as she glanced between the two men.

But strangely enough, neither of them seemed fazed by it.

Martin simply nodded stiffly and excused himself.

Though, as he left, he cast Charlotte a few hesitant glances, as if he still wasn’t sure what had just happened.

Charlotte could only return a small, apologetic nod in response.

There wasn’t much else she could do.

“Well then, Miss Ceylon.”

Henry’s deep voice drew her attention back.

His serious gaze locked onto hers, unwavering.

For a split second, Charlotte actually wondered if her name really was Ceylon.

But—

“…My name is Charlotte.”

“Oh, I see. My apologies.”

Henry furrowed his brow, his tone completely sincere.

Then—

“Well then, Miss Serine, is there something you’d like to tell me?”

Charlotte…

Paused.

And this time, she didn’t bother holding back her thoughts.

…What the hell is wrong with this guy?